Our Past is Our Future
by delamort
Summary: Ten years has passed since that passionate night and Erik's inevitable betrayal. Erik finds Christine is no longer in the situation he had imagine for her, inviting them to perform in America. Will he be able to fix what has been done? Will she fall in love with the Phantom once more? {Rewrite of LND, Erik and Christine POV}
1. Prologue

_{hi everyone! Author here, I wanted to rewrite my own personal version of Love Never Dies, especially since I didn't really enjoy how many characters were messed up in the plot. And don't get me started on the ending. But I'm a sucker for the original and the music is amazing so there's no way I can not be obsessed with it right? Anyways! Please enjoy this story! I hope to write many chapters for it, including the ending and then some!}_

_Prologue_

It was the night before her marriage, nerves shaking with fear and doubt. She wondered if this was it, truly the end of the story and the end of the notorious Phantom of the Opera.

Although she had given his ring back, leaving with Raoul and cutting her ties, she could not hold back the immense guilt growing in her very soul. It was her fault. The attention, killings, music, love; they were all for her. All those years of his nurture and care, although the fear of him drove her mad, a large part of her soul succumbed in guilt for leaving him.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, she had been staying at the Giry's place for some time now. Raoul had insisted on letting her stay in his castle of a home, but she had denied. In both practical means that a young woman should not stay in the house of a man she's not married to, and the fact that she was not yet ready to give up her freedom and dreams in order to become the viscountess.

"Come in," she called, she had been sitting on her bed, watching the birds fly by her window.

A mousy young blonde flew in with a smile, she raced to Christine's bed with a fury of giggles.

"I did it!" She exclaimed, "I followed mother and I found where he's hiding! I can't believe I did this!"

Christine smiled widely and threw her arms around her friend. "Oh Meg! I cannot thank you enough! You are the most faithful friend anyone could ask for. I cannot express what this means to me!"

The blonde giggled loudly and shushed Christine, "Shh! Mother can't know what were up to. If she caught us, we'd be deader than _well._.."

Christine smiled softy, "still thank you. Now I can rest easy knowing I can make amends and closure with my teacher."

"I'm still not sure about this Christine," Meg murmured, tugging her white dress. "He did hurt you and the Viscount. I just want you to be safe, you are like my sister Christine."

Christine held her hand, softly touching the smooth pale skin. "And you are my only family Meg, ever since Papa had passed on you had always been there with me. Even though I had been more obsessed with my angel than boys like you'd been."

Meg laughed, "yes, you were indeed strange Christine. But I love you just the same. Now come, we must prepare dinner and when mother is asleep, I will show you the way."

Christine prayed a silent thank you to Meg's loyalty and to her father for watching over her fate. She wondered how the night would end, and if she could make amends to her angel.

~

After dinner, the two of them packed up. Madame Giry slapped both of their slouching backs and lectured them on posture, in which the girls giggled quietly together. Reminiscing from their youth.

Once nightfall reached, Christine put on a proper walking gown and jacket while Meg stayed in her dressing gown.

"I'll give you directions because I'm afraid of coming back on my own," she whispered, scrunching her face when she looked at Christine, "plus I wouldn't want to face _his_ or anyone else's wrath."

Christine smiled and hugged her friend once more. Tears forming in her eyes as she was unsure of the nights outcome. Fear taking over now that the night had come, but this had been something she must do.

"Thank you my dear, old friend." She whispered, receiving direction from Meg and she walked swiftly towards her destination.

She finally reached an old two story building, the darkness hiding its detail but the broken hinges and roof were evident. She gulped loudly and knocked a few times, her heart beat loudly pumping in the silence.

A familiar voice called rashly, "who dares to be disturbing me so late?"

She let out a shaky breath, relieved and scared to hear her beloved angel.

"I-It's Christine, Christine Daae?" She whimpered the question, asking as if he would not remember her. She could slap herself if the situation wasn't so fearful.

The door creaked open, she took a few steps in, shrouded by darkness. The door closed behind her and her eyes could only see the black of the night.

"Why have you come here?" He spoke, anger and sadness in his voice.

"Please angel, I'm not here to hurt you. I solely wish to make amends with my teacher."

She cursed his silent footsteps, she was unsure of where he was and darted her eyes all round. She walked hesitantly forward, bumping into a few objects.

"Christine, we both know that the past cannot be changed or amended for. Have you come to mock the monster?" He hissed, she could hear the creaks of stairs and tried to follow his direction.

"No angel, in my heart I know you are just a man, a teacher and my friend. Please, my protector, give me some closure before we part."

She found the stairs, trying to rush towards him. Underneath her the wood cracked, breaking in the stair. Before she had fallen, strong arms and cold bony hands held her.

"_Closure_? Is that what you want Christine?" His voice raising in anger, his grip tightening on her arms. "I see now. You had come to mock my pitiful life, create some fantastical illusion that everything is fine and you can marry spoilt suitor without any fear in your heart. That the monster will go away once you believe it. Tell me I'm wrong Christine. _Tell me_!"

He carried her to a room, she noticed that the roof had caved in some to reveal a moonless sky. Her eyes adjusted but she could not see clearly. She bit her lip and scrunched her eyebrows.

"No! I meant no ill will! I just-"

"Could you have not fooled yourself and forget about me while in bed with the _handsome_ Viscount?" He sneered, "why must you come here and torture me Christine?"

She felt the tears forming in her eyes, "No! I do not know why exactly myself but I had to see you one last time. I am to be wed tomorrow but you had been there for me long before I could remember. I just needed to hear your voice and see you once more before I could no longer not."

"You torture me Christine," she could feel him getting closer to her, her heart ramming inside her chest. "Why must you entice me so when you are going to be married in the morning? Why have you come to see me and say such things?"

She blushed, why did she come? He was right, if she were to just forget him and be with Raoul then there would be no need. Why did she need him so badly?

She thought back to the kiss, their lips intertwined and all those years of secretly wanting and needing each other came undone. The passion was more than she could handle. Kissing Raoul had not been the same, there was a flame in her chest when she had thought of her teacher.

She stepped closer to him, knowing he was merely inches in front of her from the distinct smell of his cologne. She reached out, touching the cloth on his arms. He froze completely under her touch.

"I-I'm sorry I had left you, it was not right of me. But you must forgive me, I was scared and hurt. There is something between us that frankly, scares me to death. I am not sure of how I feel, but I am riddled with thoughts of you that I can no longer sleep." She gripped her hand tighter against his arms, her voice becoming filled with emotion and tears. The hurt and thoughts kept in her soul were flooding out in that instant.

He sighed, his hands cupping hers gently. "Oh Christine, in my heart you will always be _my_ Christine. But these thoughts will be forgotten in your marriage. For now you must go, you must leave me for good."

Tears flooded her eyes in defeat, "yes angel. But may I have one request?"

"Anything."

"Kiss me one last time."

And for a moment all the time in the world stopped. No one dared to even draw a breath.

He stepped closer, his long fingers twisting a curl and his breathing became more rapid. He caressed her cheek, and her heart beat escalated. He cupped her jaw and softly planted his lips on hers. The chaste feeling grew into a passionate embrace and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he squeezed her waist closer to his own.

She melted into his lips, her heart never feeling so pure and whole. He lifted her tiny frame in the air and against his own body. Her hands played with the strands of sleek, black hair and they stayed beneath the light of the sky for sometime until he broke free from their embrace.

"C-Christine," he huffed, out of breath. "If we continue, I am not sure I could control myself."

She giggled, watching his state as much as she could. "I have never seen you in such disarray angel."

"As you should not! As your former teacher I should warn you to behave yourself!"

"Behave myself?" She acted hurt, pouting and she caressed the back of his neck. "Why good sir, I am shocked you would accuse me of such things!"

He chuckled softly, a sound that made her heart soar with happiness she could not fathom.

"That's the first time I have heard you laugh teacher." She murmured, wondering what would have become if things were different.

"Christine, you must leave. It is physically hurting me not to take you by my side and enjoy your warmth day after day."

"W-Well," she stammered, trusting her heart to make the heavy decision. "Why don't you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I have made my decision angel. I wish to be with you, and only you. For as long as we both shall live."

"Christine, you must think clearly. Are you certain?"

"I have never seen more clearly in my future than this moment, although you scared me in the past I know your heart is pure and kind and you can become the man you always dreamed to be. The man I have come to love."

"Christine..." He breathed, their heart beats mingling together in the silence, excitement and lust filling the air.

He kissed her roughly then, unable to control himself any longer. Lips and tongues wrestled together, his hands roaming to unhitch her corset and dress, her nails clawing on his long back.

He began to kiss her neck, her soft moans enticing him and the bulge in his pants felt constricted in the fabric. He ripped the corset free and threw her undergarments to the ground.

Supple breasts, warm under his touch, were exposed to him. He kissed her collarbone gently, molding the flesh of her breasts with his long fingers.

She could not contain the volume of her moans when his fingers traced and danced along her womanhood. Pleasuring her until the peak of orgasm, taking his own garments off he took her first gently then escalated in their passion.

They had continued till the break of dawn; their bodies tangled, limbs caressing each other, kisses hot and sweet. It was as if they had each conquered their fears and doubts and became whole once again.

They laid with each other, under a cold blanket, their bodies close together in an embrace.

"Angel?" She murmured, her heart heavy with emotion.

"Yes my love?"

"What is your name dear angel? You never spoke of it during our time together."

He pursed his lips, thinking a moment before answering her. "It is Erik, my dear."

"Erik," she whispered, "it's beautiful."

"It is common. Not as beautiful as the woman in front of me." He stared at her with warm eyes, sweeping a dark curl from her face.

She giggled and snuggled closer to him. Drifting off into sweet slumber.

"I love you angel," she whispered, disappearing from the night and into sleep.


	2. Part I

Part I

It had been ten years since she had awoken to that bed alone. Ten years since Gustave had been born. Ten years since Raoul's family and business had gone bankrupt, leaving them penniless cut off from the main line. Ten years since Raoul's drinking habits started. And ten years she had suffered alone with her secret.

Her child had been so beautiful from the moment of birth that she almost doubted; but the curled tuffs of black hair and curious, focused golden eyes, the way he responded and created music, the architecture, the drawings. Even the way he saw the world. He was the perfect creation of the two of them.

It was almost unbearable, watching him, every moment and every word reminded her so painfully of him. It was a strange feeling, the emptiness inside her only made whole by her child who came from the very man who left her.

There was a time she cried every night, but once her son was born she had to be there for him every moment. Teaching him everything _he_ would have taught him.

She sat at the dining room table, watching her child think pensively and write music scores down on the sheets she had given him for his past birthday. She was in such a trance watching him, she didn't realize Raoul walking through the door.

"Darling, Christine we must begin to depart soon. This blasted ship won't wait forever." He said swiftly, checking the pocket watch in his vest.

"Of course dear, I have all of our bags packed. How are you fairing? Is your...headache settled down?" She asked, trying to brush off the idea of his constant hangovers.

She doesn't blame Raoul, she truly didn't. His family was a nuisance all in all, and once they had lost money, their first option was to cut off the son who had chosen to marry a ballet rat.

But when the drinking came in, and the gambling to make up for lost money, it only made matters worse and their marriage suffered for it.

He sighed, "I've seen better days. Now come, the carriage has arrived and we mustn't miss the boat. The show is scheduled for next week."

"Yes, yes I'm well aware darling." She mused with a smile, "let's depart then, shall we Gustave?"

It took him a moment to look up from his paper, "Oh! Yes of course mother. May I bring the violin?"

She glanced at Raoul who made no remark and nodded gleefully. One of her favourite pastimes was hearing the sound of his violin. When Raoul was in an awful mood he would have no music in the house, she was especially in shock that he had agreed to allow her to perform in America.

Of course, it was her son's tenth birthday so it had helped in her favour to go. When she had received the aria, she found it to be so beautiful and filled with emotion. She had once sang it softly to Gustave as a lullaby, even Raoul had heard and complemented the composer.

Thinking of it once again made her ecstatic with emotion. She jumped up and kissed her son's cheek, grabbing both their bags and following her husband to the carriage they had ordered.

Gustave had been so excited for the trip, he could hardly stop talking about it. He bounced joyfully while watching the scenery roll by in the window. Christine laughed when she imagined his excitement when they reached to America.

Raoul had leaned his head against her shoulder, shutting his eyes to get some rest. She loved moments like this, so peaceful and nostalgic. It reminded her of the boy she loved, her childhood friend.

"Gustave," she said quietly, "what are you most excited for love?"

He thought for a moment, "I am most excited to hear you sing mother, it will be the best birthday present ever!"

A goofy smile appeared on his face and his eyes glistened. She smiled softly and sighed.

Like father like son.

"I cannot wait either my sweet, I will look for you in the audience."

"Will we get to meet the composer?"

"I suppose so darling, he will most likely meet us before the performance to go over the aria." She was reminded of those times, even when dark he was always precise on how she preformed his work.

"I'm so happy we're going mother!" He exclaimed, his golden eyes shinning so brightly in the sun.

She ruffled his hair, "me too darling, me too."

~

They arrived at the boat, it was rather large and had a rustic feeling to it. Raoul yawned and handed their tickets to a worker and climbed up the board to the boat. Christine and Gustave followed behind, Gustave's endless questioning and awe for the design worried Christine for Raoul's temper and lingered them both behind slightly.

Once they had set up in their room, Christine had offered to tour around with Gustave while Raoul had slept for the remainder of the day. The two of them had roamed the deck and several floors and rooms, including the dinning room and recreational.

Gustave had seemed to appeal to the deck, the sunset perfect and warm. He pulled out the violin he carried with him and played a tune for his mother. Travelers gathered to watch him play, comment and question him. It wasn't until Christine was pushed to sing along with him that they were noticed and offered many gifts and dinners.

She declined the offers politely and ate dinner with Gustave, who chatted about the entire day excessively. She smiled and answered what she could, despite there being not much room to speak when he's bottled up in his own mind.

She was sure _he_ would laugh if he ever knew how their son was. Exactly like him in his articulate and musical mind, but curious and chatty like her.

She often wondered where her best friend had gone as well. She had disappeared the same night, gone without a trace. Raoul had received a letter from the Madame at one time, but never revealed it to her. But alas, that had been a long time.

But she wonders if Meg would love Gustave as much as she does.

She sighed and brought the both of them to their room after supper, with no surprise of the disappearance of Raoul.

"Why is father always gone mother? We just got here." His young mind questioned her, Christine slipped on his night wear and gave him his utilities to get ready for bed.

"Silly boy, we spent the whole day here already. And your father, well your father has a lot on his mind right now and he needs time to heal. I don't know if you remember dearest but a lot of things happened to your father and I and it has been hard for him." She kissed the top of his head, slipping on her nightgown as he brushed his teeth.

"I know mother but I still don't understand. Doesn't he love us? Wouldn't he want to be with us instead?" He came up and cuddled against her, the two of them laying in bed together.

"Of course he does my love, of course he does. Just bare with your father, I assure you things will be better. I promise."

She brushed her fingers through his hair, tucking him into his own bed once he was asleep.

She laid in the darkness alone, knowing it won't be till the early hours of the morning till Raoul comes in. She prayed silently to her father, asking him to allow them to be happy. To feel that passion and love inside her that she had felt that night. She wondered for what seemed like an eternity, and drifted off into a deep slumber.

~  
The next few days were the same, similar in almost all aspects. During the day, Gustave and Christine would explore and create music together. Even sometimes Christine would converse among with other mothers on the boat.

During the evening, they would eat and walk along the deck. Christine would sometimes sing songs that he had once taught her in her youth. In response, Gustave would close his eyes at the sound, completely immersed by it.

Once in their rooms, it would be no surprise that Raoul had gone to the bar. She sighed, knowing that the thought of her earning their money when he could not was eating him alive.

She felt pity for her poor husband.

In the morning of their arrival, she swept some hair out of Raoul's sleeping face. Reminiscing when he would awake much earlier than she. But, she sighed, they were both much younger then.

Gustave change quickly, pulling his mother out the door the two of them watched and waited for their arrival in New York City. She smiled down at her son, ruffling his hair.

"Do you remember the gift I was speaking of Gustave? For your birthday?"

"Yes mother, I really want to see it!" He gleamed up at her and she chuckled at his reaction.

"Well darling, where we're going is not just a concert, but a famous amusement park. There will be fun rides, people, and games you can play!" She bent down to his level, cupping his cheeks.

He gasped in surprise and threw his arms around her in a tight hug. She reciprocated and blinked back tears forming in her eyes.

"Thank you mother, I can't wait to explore the park together!" He bounced in her arms.

She laughed, "yes we will darling. It will be quite the experience for the both of us."

Gustave became quiet, his smile faded from his face to form a frown. "What will father do? Will he be joining us?"

She caressed his cheek, "I am not sure darling. But think of it this way, if your father has business to attend to you may join me and the composer, or watch me rehearse. Would you like that?"

"I would always love that mother."

She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. The whistle blew for their docking, Christine released her son and walked back to their room. Waking up her husband and exiting from the rustic boat.


	3. Part II

Part II

He cracked the bony knuckles, the elegant fingers dancing across the instrument's keys and beautiful tunes rang out that could only incite his excitement even more. For so long he had waited, he had wanted to see her, to feel her. Even to glance at her beauty in person just for one moment. To see her smile, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining in the light. He could at last die a bittersweet man.

He crumpled a piece of sheet music, the ink spills of his repeated mistakes haunting him in physical form. He had to have this be perfect. He had spent so long writing music for perky dance girls and show tune garbage that his mind couldn't fathom the perfection coming to his domain. The perfection of his angel. His Christine.

He remember staring up at the beautiful painting of her elegant face; he remembered when he had painted that. Her face burned in his very core, it was easy to remember the curve of her face and the smile in her eyes. The beauty mark on her cheekbone, the dark curls that cascaded down her back. His heart ached when he thought of her, the image of her lying in his bed, a smile permanently planted on her face as he made the decision to leave her.

He knew in his mind it was the right thing to do; she would have no life with him, no future. If she had stayed with him, the rich young boy, he could ravish her with fortune and royalty. As much as he loathed it, he knew that Raoul had been the better choice for Christine all along. Then she could be happy, then she could lead a safe life and enjoy the privileges he could have never given her in those times.

That night he had left her. He had left all that he lived for, all that he loved. It had taken Giry and Daroga the entire trip and then some to convince him not to end his life overboard. Even now he wonders why he didn't. But he knew he couldn't. He had taken her innocence and felt in his very soul he had to live to atone for it. How could he ruin such a pure angel?

His fingers began an nostalgic piece, one that he and Christine had sung often to each other. He remembered the day, that most fateful day. He had sensed that both Madame and Nadir had been hiding something from him; in the odd times he came out to greet them, their expressions were too polite and their voices too stoic.

Of course, he prides himself on his observational and skills for manipulation. He had called Little Giry down, giving her a new tune to sing for the Spring show. She was shocked to have been called personally, usually getting her sheet music from Gangle. She was a small meek thing, he noticed her body becoming more frail each time he saw her.

"Are you alright Little Giry? You seem to be puzzled on something." He mused, leaning his jaw on his fist as he stared her down. From the time he had known her, she was always easily amused by gossip and was almost dying to share the past secrets of the 'phantom of the opera'. She learned that people do not change much during the years. "Would you have something to say?"

"Yes! I mean, no! No, no, of course not! I mean, what could I say? Uh, y'know are the costumes kinda showy? I mean I don't mind the 'free spirit' and-"

He was amused by her stammering.

"Spit it out Giry. What are they hiding? You might not want to find out what would happen if you hide valuable information from me."

He could chuckle. Fear drained the colour from her face as she realized the truth of his words. Of course he would never act on such a thing anymore. The moment he left Christine he vowed to himself to become a better man for her. But it was still entertaining to tease the young thing.

Suddenly her eyebrows scrunched, and her bottom lip quivered slightly, as if she were to break in tears. He perched curiously from the piano bench. She fiddled with her fingers and stared at the ground. Her shoulders began to shake and tears flowed from her cheeks.

"Oh!" she cried, "I'm not supposed to tell you, but I can't help myself, it's just so sad!"

He frowned, it was hard to understand her. Her voice now mixed with both a French and New York accent made it hard to comprehend the words, especially when her tears made it nearly impossible for her to speak.

"Pray child, what is happening to you?" He asked sternly, suddenly reminded of when Christine was a child and suffered from numerous nightmares. Even if he was just a boy himself, he felt the same as he did now.

"J-Just come look!" she sobbed, pulling a handkerchief and blowing her nose as she led him to a near table. She sat in the seat and sobbed into her hands.

He looked down and picked up the newspaper cautiously. The headline read, '_Noble French family De Chagny falls into despair! Young heir gambling and drinking?'_ along with several paragraphs discussing the failed businesses and how the young soprano singer can no longer perform because of her new title.

Then there it was. A photo of his Christine. Her tired eyes visible in the photo, her hair pulled back in a bun and an elegant hat is covering half her face. But it was her. And she was stunning.

"Do you know what this means Little Giry?" he turned his back to her and the table, grinning like a fool at the simple, black and white photo.

"I know!" she wailed in her tears, "it's so sad! I can't believe this!"

He began to laugh manically, taking the newspaper with him. He left her in confusion but nothing mattered to him in that moment. Little perfect Viscount had failed! He knew he should be feeling rage for mistreating his Christine, but he felt such bliss! Such euphoria.

He raced back to his desk, writing a swift letter to his beloved. A proposal of work. He laughed to himself, now it shall be his time. He shall give everything he has every wanted to give to her now. He will make up for all this lost time. He offered an immense sum of money and called for one of his servants to deliver the letter. He knew that only time will tell.

But he knew his Christine. No matter what the little viscount had to say. She was going to come.

And she was going to sing for him.


End file.
